


The son of Betrayal and Destruction

by graveltotempo



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angels, Demons, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Rimming, Sad Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-05-03 20:15:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5305343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/graveltotempo/pseuds/graveltotempo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles Stilinski is the son of the Angel of Destruction and the Demon of Betrayal.<br/>Derek Hale broke his promise and left him behind, when he left Beacon Hills.<br/>Will history repeat itself?<br/>Will Destruction destroy Betrayal?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The son of Betrayal and Destruction

**Author's Note:**

> Just so you know, the story of Azrael and Abandon is my own creation so copyrights af.  
> Idk this was supposed to be 1k and ended up being 8k.  
> I hope you like it.
> 
> Come and find me on [Tumblr](zouisprideflag.tumblr.com)
> 
> COME AND SAY HI, OR SEND ME PROMPTS OR ASKS!

Derek looked at the sign facing him, a mixture of different emotions in his chest. Just four words, four simple words, and yet the meaning behind them, at least for him, was enormous.

“Welcome to Beacon Hills.”

Cora, who was sat right next to him at the front of the car, smiled at him and squeezed his knee, reassuringly. “Come on, Derek.” She encouraged him.

Derek took a deep breath and entered the small town.

They drove in silence through the main road of the small town. It was a sunny day and it was summer. Kids and elders where walking around in the centre of the town, the hotness of the day bringing sweat to their foreheads. Beacon hills hadn’t changed in the slightest.

Cora and Derek were first going to see Deaton, to tell him what they had found in their long travel across the continent, which meant they had to pass the Stilinski household to get there.

There were other ways to get to Deaton, but Cora didn’t mention it, and Derek didn’t explain himself.

The house looked abandoned. It wasn’t looking unkempt or destroyed, but at the same time, there was nothing to indicate that anyone lived there. Neither the Sheriff nor Stiles’ car where anywhere to be seen, and the house looked cold and empty.

Cora strained her neck to look out of the window as Derek slowly walked past the house, frowning a bit at the sight. “Ehi, Derek, isn’t this where Stiles lives?” she asked, as the house disappeared from her line of vision.

Derek found himself gripping the wheel tighter, as he gave a non-committal sound. “Yeah. Maybe.” He answered in the end, looking anywhere but as his sister.

They finally arrived at Deaton’s clinic a few hours later. Derek stopped the car and he and his sister got off and started walking towards the door. 

He smiled to himself, immediately recognizing some of the scents even before opening the door. Neither he nor Cora got a chance to open the aforementioned door, because someone decided to do it for them.

Scott looked agape at the sight before him. Derek. Derek Hale. Derek Hale the werewolf. And his sister, but… Derek Hale!

“Dude.” Said Scott, staring transfixed at the man before him. Derek couldn’t help but smirk at Scott’s stupid expression and arched one of his eyebrows. 

“Hey, Scott.” He answered. 

Cora smiled at the True Alpha Werewolf. “Hello, Mc Call.”

“Look at who’s back if not my favourite cousin.” Said a sarcastic voice from inside, that Derek was quick to recognize as Malia’s. He non so gently moved the other werewolf aside, moving inside the room.

Deaton was sitting in the room, a huge book in front of him, surrounded by some teen agers that Derek had become quite accustomed with as the years went by.

Lydia Martin looked as fierce as ever, her red hair left in curls on her back. She gave the briefest hint of a smile when she saw the wolf and his sister, but didn’t other ways show any other surprise.

Kira Yukimura gave the biggest of the smile, and went as far as waving at them. Cora looked at her weirded out, but Derek smiled at the fox.

Malia Hale was standing between Lydia and a werewolf covered in rashes that Derek was sure he hadn’t seen before, and she looked completely unfazed by the presence of the other two. Cora smiled at her, and Malia smiled back, before returning to look at page that laid open in front of them.

Scott reappeared behind Derek, just as Deaton raised his head from the book and gave a soft smile to the werewolf. “Ah. Derek. And Cora Hale. Beautiful to have you back.”

Derek gave a tight smile to Deaton, his gave shifting around the room, looking for someone, a particular pack member that was missing. A human pack member.

“Stiles is not here.” Said Malia in the end, and at the mention of the human’s name, the entire room seemed to deflate a little. Lydia sat down next to Deaton, a book in her hands. Parrish put a comforting hand on her shoulder, while Kira just shook her head slightly sitting on the other side of the table. Malia started going through the pages on the book she was holding, more determined than before, while Scott gave a small whine sitting on the floor.

Something was wrong, Derek could feel it. He dreaded to ask the question but he did nether less. “Who is this guy and where is Stiles?”

This time it was Deaton who answered. “This is Theo Raeken. And about where is Stiles… that’s what we are trying to find.”

***

 

“How the fuck did you lose Stiles?!” Asked Derek for about the third time in thirty minutes. The man was pacing the McCall’s living room where Melissa McCall and Sheriff Stilinski where sitting together with the rest of Scott’s pack.

The Sheriff rubbed his forehead, clearly tired about the whole situation. He looked like he had aged several years since the last time Derek had seen him. He gave Derek a severe look and the werewolf sat down with a low growl. Scott cleared his throat but Malia preceded him in answering. “We didn’t lose him. He left. Puff. Disappeared. Just like you did.” She answered, and Derek bared his fangs at her. 

Malia scowled back at him. “Don’t act like you suddenly care about him, Derek. If you’ve had ever cared about him, you would have never left.” 

Derek’s growl died in his throat while everyone eyed warily the two cousins exchange. Malia looked at him, a fierce expression on her face. She stood up and turned towards him. “He was my first and only. I was his first.” Derek’s eyes were two arrows fixed on her. “You hurt him. Just because he’s human, doesn’t mean he doesn’t know, doesn’t mean he doesn’t understand. He understands too much for his own good.” She shook her head. “He loved you. And you betrayed him.” 

Derek took out his claws. “Say one more word and I will hurt _you_.” 

Malia seemed unafraid. “Then fucking do it. Hurt me. Kill me. I don’t care. I just want to know where Stiles is. Where is he? Everyone was sure he was going to be with you. There were two options. Or Stiles was with you or…” Malia looked down, to where the Sheriff and Melissa where sitting. 

Lydia spoke then. “Or after you.” The whole room turned to look at her. Lydia sighed. “Looks like its story time. Sheriff?”

Derek turned to see Sheriff Stilinski nodding at him, a tired expression on his face. “Stiles is not my son.” he started. 

Melissa put a hand on his shoulder. “Stiles is your son. Just not biologically.” She reassured him. 

Stilinski gave her a tight smile and turned to look at Derek. “Me and Claudia are not Stiles’ biological parents. I found him when I was merely a deputy for Beacon Hills Police. He had been left inside a burning house alone. He was merely 10 months, and everyone was so shocked that he managed to survive for so long in the fire. He wasn’t even crying.” Derek’s attention had been captured. “We made some researches which took us to some important and unusual discoveries. When the police came back to investigate the cause of the accident the day after, there was nothing left of the house but black powder. Nothing. We looked at various documents, and found that the house in theory didn’t even exist. No owners where listed. The little baby, we didn’t find his parents nor his name in the various registers. He didn’t exist. It was a weird affair. Claudia and I adopted him, and the case was closed as unsolved.”

Lydia started speaking then. “Theo Raeken was a classmate of ours in fourth grade and he casually reappeared last summer. And with him, problems.” 

The werewolf, who was sitting next to Scott let out a little ‘ehi!’ which everyone ignored. “Chimeras, dread doctors, people coming back of the dead and stuff. But our sweet Scott, and all of us actually, chose to ignore Stiles telling us that Mr Raeken was evil and dangerous and we trusted him. And Scott believed Theo’s malicious words about Stiles and all of that, sending Stiles into a void of anger, pain and depression. In the end we won against the dread doctors, and Stiles was there with us. He was there with us when we all went to Scott’s house after the battle. And the next morning, he wasn’t. Gone.”

“We made some researches, trying to track him down.” She continued after a pause. “But there was something missing about his scent. We looked for different ways to find him, and in the end Theo here found him. He found him at the beginning of the summer, In South Mexico.” Derek’s eye twitched at this. “When we finally got to where Theo had signalled, we found him bleeding, covered in this rash, unconscious on the floor of a church. Stiles was nowhere to be seen.” 

Cora furrowed her eyebrows. “When you say church, do you mean La Iglesia de Santo Stefano?” 

Lydia looked at her in surprise. “Yes. Why?” She asked, but even before she got an answer her eyes showed the sudden realisation. “We were there about a month prior that.”  
  


Now he had Lydia’s full attention. “What were you doing there?” She asked. 

Derek looked at his sister, before starting to speak. “We were there with… Braeden.” Malia scoffed. Derek didn’t deign her of an answer. “Braeden is interested in arms and history of arms, and had heard that the church contained the inestimable sword of Azrael. You know who Azrael is, right?” 

Lydia nodded absently, although she looked scared about what was coming next. “The Angel of Destruction, yeah. Continue.” 

Derek nodded. “Well, so we went there, and Braeden found the sword. And that’s it.”

Lydia and Malia exchanged a worried expression with each other. “Now what?” Asked Cora, tense. She was already on her feet. 

Lydia shook her head as Melissa spoke. “Braeden is in a coma, right now at Beacon Hills Hospital. No one knows the cause, and she doesn’t seem about to wake up anytime soon.”

Silence fell on the room like a cold blanket, while everyone assimilated the meaning behind her words.

“We’ve got to find Stiles.” Decided Derek, standing up. 

“That’s what we’ve been trying to do for months now, dumbass.” Answered Malia, snarky. Cora came in between them before Derek could say something else.

“Okay, did you go to the place where the house supposedly was?” she asked, hopeful.

Kira spoke then. She had been so quiet they hadn’t really realised she was there. “We did, and… we found out something quite interesting.” She pointed at a map that had been stuck right on the wall. “See that red dot? That’s where the house was in theory. And guess what else was there?”

Derek groaned. There was only one thing that could be there. “The Nematon.” Said Theo. “And the only one who can go anywhere near that tree is our cute little banshee. The Nematon is somehow stronger now, and its pull to our already corrupted souls is strong. Lydia is the only one who could go there and risk no harm.”

“And me.” Said Cora, suddenly. 

Derek eyed his little sister warily. “What do you mean?” he asked, suspicion clear in his words. 

Cora put a gentle arm on his shoulder. “I’ve never killed someone, or turned someone in a werewolf. I’m still a Pure Wolf.” She explained, and her eyes flashed amber as a proof.

Lydia stared at Derek, awaiting for his answer, and the werewolf nodded his assent. They needed to find Stiles.

“What? You even need to ask for his… _permission_?!” asked Malia, indignation clear in her voice. “You disgust me.” She said, walking out.

Derek curled his hands in fist, angry at the were coyote. Kira gave Derek an apologetic smile, and left the room.

“I just want to know what the fuck he did to Stiles.” He heard Malia saying to Kira. The two girls where sitting in the other room.

Derek would have wanted to say that he did nothing. He would have loved to prove Malia wrong, to tell the were coyote that he wasn’t involved with whatever happened to the human.

Instead he could clearly remember being waken up in the middle of the night, by no one else than Stiles.

The human had walked right into Derek’s loft, not caring about the time and completely disregarding the definition of ‘enter after being invited only’.

“What are you doing?” Had asked Derek. The fact that he was almost asleep on his feet and Stiles was wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, and it was something in the a.m. didn’t improve his mood.

Stiles had stood there, in the middle of Derek’s room, arms crossed over his chest and a look of decision mixed with something that smelt like nerves on his face. “Let’s quit the games, Derek. You like me.” It sounded incredibly sure and Derek’s eyes widened. He fought to keep a composed face as he death stared Stiles. What did he want? Derek to admit? Not a chance.

Stiles had taken a breath and continued. “And I like you. So I’ve thought to myself, I like you, and you like me, so why? Why not try?”

Derek had squinted his eyes, as Stiles walked up to him. He hadn’t spoken or moved, unusually for him as Stiles had stopped right in front of him and looked up from his lips to his eyes. He had licked his lips once and stood on his toes and inched closer to the werewolf, and had whispered three words, baring his neck to Derek. “Make me yours.”

Now or Stiles was incredibly lucky and stupid, or Stiles was too smart and knowing for his own good. Had he or had he not known the meaning behind those words? The level of bond that the words meant? The bond between a mate and a werewolf.

Derek had been foolish then, and had let instincts take over. He hadn’t sat down and talked to Stiles or try and understand what the boy knew or assumed or anything.  
He had pushed Stiles on the bed, and jumped on him right there and then.

Stiles hadn’t screamed, and just murmured a 'you took your time, Sourwolf’ as the werewolf had proceeded to take off his clothes with no care whatsoever.

Derek’s hands had seemed to burn with passion as the werewolf had touched with almost reverence the naked body of the human who laid before him. He had kissed every inch of body that he could reach before Stiles had demanded him to make a move.

Derek had turned his down then, Stiles’ naked butt exposed to him. Stiles raised his ass in the air in anticipation, but still wasn’t prepared to feel the soft werewolf’s tongue in his butthole. He had hissed as Derek’s tongue drew circles in his bum, the werewolf’s hands separating his ass cheeks as he pressed his mouth deeper.

“Holy crap…!” Moaned Stiles, holding tightly the bed sheets and biting the pillow to avoid making too loud sounds. Derek’s tongue teased a bit at the edges, biting softly before his tongue went in again. “Fuck… Holy fuck..” moaned Stiles, louder each time. Derek took his tongue out just to replace it with a finger, working his long fingers into Stiles’ butt. Every moan Stiles made only turned Derek on more than before and Derek didn’t know how long more he could keep the game going. Stiles gave a scream then, as Derek’s finger touched his prostate and remained there for a few seconds. “Holy crap! Fucking fuck!” Derek took out his finger then and had stared down at the whimpering mess that had became Stiles.

The teen had whined when Derek pulled his finger out, arching his back to chase Derek’s finger. His hard dick was pressed between his body and the bed sheets which did nothing to stop the friction. Derek worked his own cock in his hand, mesmerised by Stiles and Stiles’ body and Stiles’ broken sobs, and Stiles…

“Are you or are you not going to pummel that thing into my body?” Had asked Stiles cheekily. His breath was shallow, and he didn’t look as cocky as usual laying on the bed at Derek’s total mercy.

Derek had smirked then, pinning Stiles’ hands on his back as he slowly entered him. Derek had been gentler than Stiles had expected, at least had first. He had waited for Stiles to adjust to the dick in his ass, before pushing in more. He had thrusted faster and faster, never letting go of Stiles’ hands. Stiles’ moans had filled the room, as Derek’s pace quickened. It was a burning passion, Derek could not see anything but Stiles, he could only hear Stiles, smell Stiles, it was just Stiles…

“Come on, Sour Wolf, come on…” Had begged Stiles, as he finally reached his orgasm, Derek climaxing with him and riding on the orgasm.

They had fallen on top of each too tired to move away from each other. Derek had pulled out, careful not to hurt the sleeping boy, and had laid beside him. He had been almost asleep himself when he had felt Stiles’ soft lips on his own. “I love you, Derek.” Had whispered the teen. “Don’t leave me.”

A few words that had completely took Derek by surprise. Stiles loved him? Stiles was human! He couldn’t love Derek! Derek, it was his fault. He had bid the teen to himself, forced him to love him. Stiles was barely 17. Derek would not force him to become his mate. Stiles was to be protected.

Two days later, Derek and Braeden had started publicly dating. A week later, they had left Beacon Hills together.

“Derek? Me and Lydia are leaving now.” Said Cora, pulling him out of the trance he had fallen into. He had nodded once, and blinked quickly trying to ignore the sudden tightness around his neck.

  
***

  
“Derek loves Stiles.” Stated Cora a few minutes later, as she and Lydia drove towards the house.

Lydia arched an eyebrow, eyes on the road. “Tell me something I didn’t know.”

Cora rolled her eyes, and continued. “Then why the hell did he leave?” She asked. “I mean, I’m glad he came to get me and all but… Why didn’t he bring Stiles with him?”

Lydia bit her lip, thinking. In fact she had been thinking about that for a long time, ever since Derek and Braeden had left Beacon Hills. She had come up with only one possible explanation. “I think… He probably thought he was protecting him or something.” She answered, stopping the car, and jumping off. Cora didn’t answer as she followed her deep in the woods. Cora had already seen the Nematon before, but it was shocking every time. The tree gave out so much force and power and…

“Lydia!” Said Cora, in alarm, when the banshee sat down in front of the Nematon. Her eyes looked glossy, almost as she was sleeping, as she stared at a vague point on top of the Nematon. The entire place was silent, even the wind made no noise. And then…

Cora felt every single air on her arms rising all of a sudden. Whispers. The Nematon seemed a silent old tree listening to all the other trees, in a mute understanding. All the other trees were whispering words, speaking words that could not be repeated in a language that was dead.  
  


“Do you hear this?” Asked Lydia, her voice somehow loud and low at the same time.

Cora nodded once. “They are saying… Names. Azrael. Abandon. Merachiel.”

Lydia nodded, and fell silent again, listening to the whispers of the trees. Cora now understood why no one went to the Nematon. It looked so old and seemed to have the knowledge of every single thing that happened, was happening and was going to happen. The pull was strong. Like when your mother cooks chocolate chip cookies and leaves you in charge of them. Its hard not to take one. But if you don’t like choco chip cookies you have no reason to take them. That’s how Cora felt. That’s why she finally took a glad breath when Lydia finally stood up.

Lydia looked still in trance as she walked back towards the car. Cora knew better than ask any question and got in the car in silence. It wasn’t a long ride from there to Derek’s house, but it looked somehow longer with nothing but silence to fill the car. They stopped the car right in front of Derek’s house, and they both jumped off. Lydia entered the house first and sat down at a table, a pen and a piece of white paper in her hands. She wasn’t looking at the paper as she scribbled words on it. The whole pack assembled behind her as she wrote away.

 

Lydia came out of her trance a few minutes later, and looked around her, confused. Derek had a piece of paper in his hand, and looked as if he had seen a ghost. Wordlessly, he handed the paper to Lydia.

_ The story of Azrael and Abandon. _

_ Azrael is the angel of Destruction. Beautiful, deadly, with golden eyes, and long ethereal hair. Azrael has no mercy and he feels no pity. His whole being is a beam of light and power, and yet he’s cooler than ice. He creates destruction and destroys creation with the mighty Avalon, the enormous sabre that he always keep at his side. _

_ Abandon is the demon of Betrayal. Strong, powerful, and terrible, his eyes burn like coal, his hair the silky material of the mantle of a horse. Abandon burns with passion and hatred, and his whole being is surrounded by a dark void of nothingness. Yet, Abandon transmits warmth and heat to his surroundings. Abandon doesn’t fight: Abandon seduces. _

_ One day, not many years ago, Abandon and Azrael fell in love with each other. The Angel of Destruction fell for the Demon of Betrayal, in a love that was wrong and terrible in the power that it beheld. _

_ Azrael could not lose his place in the armies of the sky, so they kept their love a secret that only the moon knew about. The stars where witnesses of this love so strong and yet so frail, that crumbled before their eyes on the night that Abandon lived up on his title of demon: the night when Abandon betrayed Azrael. _

_ Abandon was cultivating inside him a new spirit, a hybrid that wasn’t meant to be born, the whisper of an abomination, a secret that only the Nematon was aware of.  _

_ The powers of the Realm of the sky came across the whisper, and Azrael was condemned for his sin of attaching himself in a love affair with a demon. And Azrael, the Angel of Destruction, repaid Abandon with the same coin. He destroyed the source of the betrayal. _

_ The Angel of Destruction descended upon Earth, where Abandon and his hybrid son where hiding, the mighty Avalon in his arms. _

_ Abandon didn’t fight nor he ran. He stayed where he was, ready to face the Angel, and protect the child. _

_ Azrael stood in front of Abandon, his sabre in his hands and death in his eyes. His golden eyes didn’t waver from the burning coal of Abandon. The Abomination was standing right behind Abandon. _

_ The Abomination’s eyes were open and he looked at Azrael without fear, and looked at Abandon without compassion.  _

_ Mercy fell upon the Angel of Destruction. He was not to destroy the hybrid, and was not to destroy his Abandon.  _

_ “ _ _ Merachiel, facies apporto iustitia super gubernationi de caelum. _ _ ” _

_ Abandon screamed then, as Azrael hit the ground with his sabre. Once Avalon touched the ground, and flames engulfed the Nematon where the Angel of Destruction and the Demon of Betrayal were hidden. _

_ Abandon screamed, but it wasn’t a cry of despair. It was a shout of euphoria, as Azrael armour fell on the ground and he wrapped his whole being with the demon.  _

_ The infant, the Abomination, Merachiel, didn’t cry. He looked in silence, as his angelic and demonic entities disappeared in dust, fascination mixed with intelligence in his golden eyes, eyes that hid too much knowledge for an infant. _

_ The sword of Azrael laid on the floor, and Merachiel on the table. _

_ “ _ Merachiel, facies apporto iustitia super gubernationi de caelum.” _ _

_ Merachiel, bring justice upon the Realms of the sky. _

_ The fire kept burning. _

“It’s you.” said Lydia. She put the paper down, looking at Derek with her eyes wide open. “Merachiel is Stiles, and he’s coming for you.”

***

Stiles was in Beacon Hills. Every single member of the McCall pack could feel it. 

Scott was the first one to see him. It was a cold day of autumn, and Stiles was standing outside Deaton’s clinic, two familiar werewolves at his sides. His eyes looked brighter than they had ever been, and his hair was just a bit longer than it was before.

He was staring at Scott through the clinic’s window, an expression of cold calculation on his face. He was completely enveloped in a dark cloak, that hid most of his body, and so were the two werewolves next to him.

Both the werewolves had icy blue eyes, and they looked deadlier than they had ever been before. Isaac Lahey and Jackson Whittermore.

“Stiles…” murmured Scott, immediately running towards the door, hopeful. By the time he made it outside, Stiles and the two wolves had disappeared.

With his heart hammering in his chest he had gone back inside the room, taking out his phone to send a multi text to the other pack members. 

_ From: Scott McCall _

_ To: Pack, Derek, Cora, Deaton _

_ Text: Juz saw Stiles outside the wndow!! Hes in B Hs! With Isac! AND Jaksom! _

Only then he saw the smudged piece of paper on the table. With trembling hands the True Alpha picked the paper, and read its content. 

“ _Give me Derek Hale_.” Scott paled.

“This sounds like a trap.” Said Theo a few hours later, as he and the rest of the Pack ventured inside the woods.

“Oh it most certainly is a trap.” Stated Lydia as a matter of fact. “But it’s also the only way of getting to Stiles that we’ve had in about three months? Definitely worth a shot.” She added, following Derek closely.

Derek and Scott were guiding the line, as the werewolves, and the others followed their footsteps. Derek could almost smell Stiles’ scent. Almost, because although it seemed like Stiles’ scent, there was something missing about it. Isaac and Jackson were the easiest to follow.

And then they saw them. Derek stopped in his tracks, and Scott followed suit, both of them looking at the clearing behind the bushes.

4 humans/beings were standing there. One was Isaac. The werewolf was sitting down next toStiles, and was looking at him with a sweet and tragic expression. Jackson was sitting on the other side of Isaac, his gaze moving from the clearing to Isaac, in an attempt to keep both things in his eyesight.

Stiles was standing looking slightly bored in his huge cloak. He murmured something to Isaac, before sighing again. He looked ethereal. His eyes shone more than they had ever before, going from the normal hazel quality to an almost brilliant golden colour. His hair seemed to have grown longer. His features hadn’t changed, and yet he looked even more beautiful than Derek remembered.

Behind Stiles, was standing Abandon. Derek had never seen a picture of the Demon of Betrayal, but he knew it was him the moment he saw him. And the Demon was staring right at the bushes were the Pack was hidden, his gaze unwavering and unmoving.

“It’s Isaac and Jackson... and Stiles!” whispered Scott excitement clear in his voice. Derek looked at him in surprise, before it hit him. Stiles or the werewolves, didn’t even look at Abandon. They didn’t seem to be paying him any attention, almost... almost as if they couldn’t see him. And neither the rest of the Pack seem to see them.

Except Lydia. She looked pale, as she murmured. “The Demon of Betrayal.”

Derek nodded at her, making her aware that he too could see him. “Abandon.”

Jackson raised his head, looking wildly around the clearing before turning to look at Stiles, expectantly. Stiles raised his head, and looked at the sky, raising in his hand Avalon, the sabre of Azrael. “Close your eyes!” he ordered.

Too late the Pack realised what was happening. A huge explosion of light sparked from the sabre, blinding the pack. Everything was white, and Derek couldn’t see anything at all.

He obviously struggled when he felt someone tying his hands together, but he couldn’t see who it was or what he was doing so it didn’t work. He could hear the screams of Cora and Scott, but couldn’t do anything to help either of the two. Lydia wasn’t screaming.

When he finally reacquainted his eyesight, he was lying in the middle of the clearing, his face a few centimetres away from Stiles’ shoes.

“Hello, Derek Hale.” Said Stiles.

How many months had it been since Stiles last pronounced Derek’s name? Derek had forgotten the perfect way in which the syllable of his name sounded in Stiles’ voice. Angry or not angry, evil or not evil, Stiles’ voice was the best for Derek.

The werewolf slowly raised his eyes from Stiles’ feet and met the cold stare of the teen, his golden eyes seemingly froze in the spot. “Stiles.” Answered Derek, unable to look away from him.

Stiles caressed the sabre in his hands, and smiled placidly at Derek. “No. My name is not Stiles, Derek Hale. My name is Merachiel.”

“Stiles? Stiles what is going on?!” asked Scott, his voice shaking. Derek saw Stiles’ eyes narrowing in direction of the True Alpha, and immediately Scott was shut up.

Stiles glared at him. “As I was saying before being so rudely interrupted, my name isn’t Stiles. My name is Merachiel.” Abandon, was silent behind Stiles, his eyes burning in Derek’s soul and never wavering away from him. “And I’m here to destroy Derek Hale.” He pronounced, smiling at the werewolf at his feet.

He moved away from Derek, and someone (Jackson?), sit Derek up so that he could comfortably see Stiles. Both his arms and his feet were trapped in wolfsbane.

“Cora Hale! You always were my favourite.” Said Stiles, caressing her hair softly. Cora looked terrified. “Don’t worry, I have no intention of killing you. Just your brother.” He appeared thoughtful for a moment. “Although watching your brother dying before your eyes might be a trauma for you. I’d let you go, but I learnt not to trust a Hale.” His gaze settled on Derek and he looked at him in disgust.

“Malia Hale. How are you, honey?” he asked, patting her head and walking past her, not waiting for an answer. “Kira Yukimura! A joy to see you’ve joined us. And our very favourite Lydia Martin.” He kneeled before Lydia looking at her in the eyes. “You look absolutely stunning, Lydia Martin. I love the little curls in your hair, at the back.”

“Scott McCall. My very dear Scotty. What am I going to do with you? Tick tock, tick tock. Should I kill you, or should I not?” he asked him, a smirk on his face. “Let’s see. If the timed I saved your life outnumber the time you saved mine, I will kill you. In contrary case, I won’t.” He looked shocked for a second. “I cannot remember a single time you saved my life! Or a single time where you gave me the trust I deserve! Do you remember any, Scott?”

Derek watched Scott’s eyes looking down in shame, as Stiles stood up and moved away from him. He smiled when he reached Theo. “Theo Raeken! This is amazing! My spell is working! You are dying!” he announced, smiled pleasantly to himself. “Once the rash consumes your whole body, you’ll be dead. Its painful isn’t it? Painful death. I love it.”

Derek looked at the faces of the other pack members. All of them looked somewhere between horrified and terrified, and he couldn’t blame them. Stiles was holding Avalon, and had just confirmed that he was there to kill Scott, Theo and Derek.

Stiles smiled to the others. “You must be wondering why have I got Jackson and Isaac with me.” He said, sitting down in front of Malia.

No one answered, but every single eye was on Stiles. The boy looked at them expectantly, carefully avoiding Derek’s eyes, and sighed. “One at a time, please. The reason is simple. _Someone_ , forgot that he had some betas that didn’t live with him anymore but that are still somehow linked to them. _Someone_ , let Jackson go to London alone, not bothering to go and check on him, make sure he knew how to live with his lycanthropy. _Someone_ , let Isaac go to France with a werewolf hunter, and didn’t bother check if the boy was okay, even after said Hunter came back to Beacon Hills alone.”

Derek felt the guilt in his stomach as he looked at Isaac and Jackson. The two werewolves were standing next to each other, Jackson with a protective stance standing in between Isaac and the other Pack. Isaac was looking at Derek, clearly displeased with the werewolf’s behaviour. They didn’t seem like Stiles was controlling them at all. They just seemed very upset about the rest of the Pack and Derek. They were looking at Stiles like they were ready to be by his side the moment he seemed hurt or in danger.

“Derek Hale.” Said Stiles, walking slowly towards him. He was smiling, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. There was something manic and terribly hot about the way he looked at him. “Is betraying your middle name? Or is it breaking promises?” he asked, his eyes boring into Derek’s.

Derek took a deep breath and stared at him. “Stiles, I don’t know what happened, and I’m sor...” the metal end of the sabre collided with Derek’s temple, sending him straight on the ground. Derek could feel the blood tickling down his cheek, the pain on the side of his head almost deafening him.

Cora and Malia screamed, as Stiles pointed the sabre at his neck, an expression of hatred and disgust on his face. “Merachiel, not Stiles. You don’t know what happened? Don’t make me laugh. You know what you did.” He squatted on the ground, bringing his face closer to Derek’s. Derek could see almost every single one of Stiles’ long eyelashes, and could count all of his moles. Stiles smirked. “You broke my heart. You betrayed my trust. I am going to kill you slowly, and painfully, make you regret every single thing you’ve done to me, make sure you die in a way that will make others think twice before attacking me.”

Derek was scared. He was terrified, but not for himself. For Stiles. The boy didn’t seem in his mind, he seemed crazy and angry. Derek hated himself. He had left Beacon Hills to save Stiles, and instead he had only hurt the younger boy.

“He never completed the mating process.” Blurted out Lydia. Stiles’ head snapped in her direction. Lydia looked like she had finally completed a very difficult maths equation. She looked at Stiles with a sweet expression. “He didn’t, did he? You knew he was your mate from the beginning. And he didn’t. And he started the mating process, but never finished it. And he left you.” She said looking at Lydia.

“Shut up, Lydia Martin.” Snarled Stiles, but his voice broke a little. He cleared his throat and looked between Derek and Lydia. “He knew. Oh, yes, he knew everything. And that’s what makes it worse. Derek knew: he just didn’t care.”

“Stiles, listen to me.” Said Malia, her voice imploring. She had managed to move closer to Cora, who looked a step away from starting to cry. “You don’t really want to kill Derek. Not here. In a small clearing, like... there is no point? And Scott is sorry! And so is Theo. Isaac doesn’t want to witness the death of both his previous Alphas.”

Jackson growled at her, as Stiles turned to look at her. “Malia Hale, I don’t know this Stiles person you are talking to. But, I can tell you this. Werewolves and mating, re terrible and wrong. We need to destroy every single werewolf on this Earth. All of them. They only bring pain and problems.” He nodded to himself. “Isaac doesn’t give two shits about either Derek or Scott. He has his mate/boyfriend Jackson,I don’t think he cares about anything else. Cora obviously is the only werewolf I could save. I like Cora.”

He turned to look at Derek, thoughtful. “Yes, you’re right about one thing though. I don’t want to kill Derek in this clearing.” He smiled. “The Nematon is alwaysthe best place.”

Derek blinked once, staring at Stiles, and suddenly, they weren’t in the clearing anymore. Malia had obviously asked him to not kill Derek in the clearing in order to gain some time, but Stiles had just tele transported them all at the Nematon. Abandon was still staring at Derek, as if he had never moved in the first place.

“Derek Hale. What should we chop off first? An arm? An ear? Your neck?” he asked, walking slowly towards him, the sabre in his hand.

Derek could smell the death at the Nematon, and could feel the trees whispering words around him, words that had been lost, in a language that he could not decipher.

“I think we should start by cutting the neck.” Said Stiles, his eyes gleaming as he looked down at Derek. Derek held his stare, and could hear Cora sobbing in the background, along with Scott. And then Lydia screamed.

It wasn’t the first time Derek heard the banshee scream. But this was worse. Lydia’s scream was not presenting the death of one person, it was like she was announcing a massacre, a devastation. Abandon was looking at her, and although his features hadn’t changed, you could see a hint of finality in his face, a soft euphoria around his edges.

Stiles fell on the ground and the ground trembled under their feet. Malia was pressed against Cora to protect her, and that’s when Derek saw him, appearing from the ground.

Azrael, the Angel of Destruction, made his appearance in the clearing. He was double the size of a normal human, a silver armour on his body.

Azrael was standing before them. He and Abandon were side by side and his cold golden eyes were fixed on Stiles. Yet, Derek could still feel his eyes on himself, as weird as this could be.  
  


“Merachiel.” Neither Abandon nor Azrael’s lips had moved, but Azrael’s voice boomed inside the room.  
  


Stiles fell on his knees, his eyes wide open staring at the Angel. His father? Mother? Who even knows anymore?  
  


“ Iustitia super gubernationi de caelum .” Pronounced the Angel as he extended his arm to touch Stiles’ heart. Like he had just been electrocuted, Stiles gave a small spasm, making a small sound of hurt.

Derek struggled, trying to move and put himself between Stiles and the angel. He didn’t know what Azrael was doing or what he wanted from Stiles, but he sure as hell wanted to make sure the boy was okay and as far as possible from the Angel of Destruction.

And then it happened. Nothing changed, but suddenly Stiles’ eyes cleared. The teen looked around him wildly and turned to look at Avalon at his feet. He gave a look at Derek, and turned to speak to the Angel. “Ahem. Well… you speak latin or something so I don’t know, do you understand me?” he asked, in classic Stiles manner.

The entire clearing was holding their breath and looking at Stiles and the Angel and the Demon. Azrael and Abandon stared at Stiles. Stiles ran a hand through his hair. “I will take this as a yes.” He bent down and reached for the sabre. “This is yours, I think?” he said, handing the spear to the Angel.

Angel stared at Stiles for a long time, and then finally reached for the sabre. Stiles breathed out and smiled at him. “Okay. Cool. Now, ehm… yes. We’re done, I…” he trailed off as he watched Azrael slowly raising his sabre to the sky. Abandon didn’t move, and watched as the Angel slowly and terribly made his way towards Derek.

‘ _Looks like I am going to die today, after all._ ’ Thought the werewolf, closing his eyes, as Azrael raised Avalon above his head.

“Oh my god, no!” Screamed Cora and Malia. 

“NO!” screamed Stiles. Derek’s eyes flew open in shock. Stiles was standing between him and the Angel. Stiles looked at Derek in the eye for a second, and put a hand on his chest, before turning to look at the Angel of Destruction. 

“I don’t know what you want, but please don’t kill him. Don’t kill him.”

“Merachiel.” Boomed Azrael’s voice. He didn’t put down his hands.

Stiles refused to open his eyes. “I… please don’t hurt Derek. I’ll get you two a card for Mothers day, and Fathers day. You can kill me! I’ll do anything you want me to. You can touch me. Destroy me. Torture me. But for the love of God, don’t hurt Derek.” He pleaded, tears streaming down his eyes.

Abandon smiled. No one had noticed him, but he had moved behind Azrael, and had gently taken the sabre out of his hands. “ Merachiel the misericordes .” He said, and there was a smile on the demon’s lips.

He nodded once, and kneeled down in front of Stiles. The entire clearing held his breath as he handed Stiles a small diamond encrusted silver dagger. “ Iustitia et misericordes, amor et venia .”

Stiles accepted the dagger with trembling hands, still eyeing Azrael with fear. The angel was not smiling, but he didn’t seem about to attack either.

Abandon rose to his feet then, and grabbed Azrael’s hands. All the ropes on Derek and the others hands disappeared, and the entities shone once, brighter than before, and disappeared.

“Stiles.” Started Derek, once he had freed himself from the wolfs bane chains. Stiles looked at him once, eyes wide open, and ran away.

“Stiles!” called Scott, ready to run after him.

“No.” stopped him Lydia and Jackson. The ex boyfriends looked at each other once and then Lydia proceeded to speak. “Abandon… he said ‘Justice and mercy, love and forgiveness.’” She translated.

Jackson nodded. “Derek, go.” He initiated.

Isaac smiled. “You’ll have time to apologize to us later. Go to your mate.”

Malia and Cora walked up to him. Cora gave him a big hug, while Malia stared at him for a few seconds. “Don’t fuck up this time.” She said, before turning towards a now rash-free Theo. From her that was more than enough.

Derek nodded, pecked Cora on the cheeks and run after Stiles.

 

It wasn’t hard finding Stiles. The teen was sitting on the ground in front of a small lake and was throwing rocks at the water surface. He was still wearing the black cloak, but now Derek could see him properly. He had huge bags under his eyes, almost like he hadn’t properly slept in days.

“Stiles.” Called Derek.

Stiles started and turned to look at him, an expression of nervous anticipation on his face as he stood up. He gave Derek the weakest of the smiles as he stood up. “Oh, sorry buddy, I didn’t mean the guy- the angel I mean-, can I call him father? Or is he my mother? Well, I didn’t mean him to attack you, I am so sorry, so forgive me, I’ll just disappear again from your life so you and Braeden can go on live ever happily after, say sorry to the others from me, like, you don’t have to, but I’d love if you did, not that you have to do what I like or whatnot aha, I don’t know what my point is and…”

Derek gave a pained smile as he took one step towards the boy. “Stiles…”

“No. Last time we got close things happened, and I don’t want to have to spend another whole year trying and failing miserably to forget you and your ways…” His voice broke, and he hastily wiped some tears from his eyes. “Look at that, I’m so pathetic. Go on laugh at me, I know this is silly don’t…”

Derek shook his head and took another step towards him. “Stiles, I’m sorry.” He started.

The teen looked at him from under his lashes, frowning slightly. “Uhm?”

Derek bit his lip and shook his head again. “I have been stupid. You loved me. In a mate way kind of love.” Stiles looked at his feet, but didn’t correct him. “And I did too. Love you. In a mate way.” Stiles’ head snapped up. “I… I was trying to protect you. I… I disregarded your feelings as nothing more than an teenager fling. That night… That night, I almost claimed you. I had started the mate ritual, I just needed to claim you. And you… You said you loved me. And I… I panicked. I thought I was imposing, and I wanted to protect you and-”

“You FUCKING idiot!” Shouted Stiles unexpectedly starting to attack him. Its not like the punches he was throwing had any effect on Derek, but it was a bit unexpected. “You filthy LIAR, you absolute moron, I HATE YOU. I HATE YOU SO MUCH DEREK, I WANT YOU DEAD. How DARE you think that I don’t love you as much as you do, YOU PIECE OF WALKING NONSENSE!” Tears were spilling from Stiles’ eyes. “YOU! I HATE YOU! I WANT YOU DEAD! I WANT TO KILL YOU!” The sobs quickly started to shook his whole body, as the teen collapsed on the floor, crying.   
Derek could feel his whole heart breaking as he sat down beside him and circled his body with his arms. He… He had done this to Stiles. To his Stiles. His mate.

Derek held Stiles for what seemed like an eternity, murmuring gentle words, as he kissed his forehead. Lydia had told him, before he left what he had to do. Woo his mate. Regain Stiles’ trust. Derek was ready.

He scooted up the younger boy, keeping him close to his chest as he kissed his cheeks, in a tender and reassuring move. Stiles didn’t try to escape Derek’s arms, but  looked at the wolf in the eye for a few seconds, before hiding his face in his chest.

“I’ll keep you safe.”

***

The next few days were interesting to say the least. Just as Lydia had told him to do via mobile, Derek had denied access to the new rebuilded Hale’s house to everyone: pack, sheriff and family alike.

He and Stiles were the only habitant of the house, and Derek made sure to not be too far away from Stiles’ side. It wasn’t like Stiles was weak and needed Derek all the time. It was more about the fact that Derek’s wolf had the need to make sure his mate knew he was being provided for, that he knew he could trust Derek.

They slept in the same bed, ate sitting together, shower together and cuddle together. Stiles was finally beginning to trust Derek again, allowing the werewolf to take care of him, and even going as far as calling him ‘Sourwolf’ again. Derek remembered when the boy had done it for the first time.

“Stiles, I made some chocolate cake.” Had called the werewolf from the kitchen. Not that it mattered, since Stiles had been observing him from the beginning of the process, sitting on the kitchen counter.

The boy had narrowed his eyes at the cake. “That’s not a cake.” He had declared, not bothering to move closer to take a look.

Derek had looked at him confused. “What? Yes it is?”

Stiles had stuck his nose in the air, and rolled his eyes, but he was smirking. He had jumped offthe counter, reaching for the cupboard where he knew Derek kept the cream. Then he had proceeded to spray said cream on the cake. 

Derek had arched an eyebrow at him, while Stiles huffed. “Don’t eyebrow me, Sourwolf. That’s how you actually make a cake.” He had said, spraying some cream on his nose. He had smiled cheekily and licked it off him immediately. “Cute.”

A few days later, the Pack had finally been allowed inside the house. Stiles and Scott had hugged for about 20 minutes, whispering apologies and ‘I love you, bro’ for a long time, immerse in their own world.

Malia and Lydia stepped up to Derek. The coyote didn’t smile at the werewolf, but she didn’t seem too hostile. “I hope you done fucking up stuff, and have finally decided to reason with yourself and love Stiles like he deserves.” She said.

Lydia had nodded. “Treat him right and don’t do stupid stuff again.”

Derek had looked at the two girls dead serious in the eye. “I have lived a whole yearwithout seeing Stiles. I have spent a full week with only Stiles for company and no one else. I know what I want to do for the rest of my life.”

Lydia finally smiled at that, and Malia gave him a punch on the shoulder. Maybe she and Derek would not be bffs anytime soon, but they both wanted the best for Stiles.

Stiles looked at Derek from over Scott’s shoulder and smiled. “I heard that.” He mouthed at him. “I love you.”

Derek smiled back, a proper smile as he replied, all his feautures looking softer as he looked at Stiles with what could only described as love. “I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

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